News from Metropolitan Community Church of Austin

That is so true. Have you ever watched Daniel while he listens to the offertory on a Sunday morning? He is oblivious to everything in the world but the music. He smiles and nods, sometimes closes his eyes. He loves the music, and I love to watch him love it.

The same is true for many of our ministers here. Have you noticed Scot standing in heat, cold, and rain for the privilege of being the first one of us to greet our visitors? He is so present in those moments, so focused on offering hospitality, especially to those in whom he senses a hesitancy about their first visit. Have you watched Donna and Michelle spreading mulch around the live oaks or replacing stones along the curves of our labyrinth? It's the same thing. You can watch love made visible.

I have a friend who loves prayer that way. Sometimes, I've watched as she prays, and I can tell she's no longer in the same room I am--or at least her spirit isn't. Sometimes as she prays she rests her hands loosely in her lap, sometimes she grips them together as though prayer is a strenuous exercise, and sometimes she rubs her palms together as if in anticipation. Sometimes she prays silently though I'm sitting right there, and sometimes she lets me hear her words, like I'm eavesdropping on her and God.

Sometimes, oftentimes, she prays for me. Those are the best times.

Richard Foster once wrote: "No human activity draws us more deeply into the heart of God than prayer. And no way of prayer places us more solidly into the affairs of human life than intercessory prayer. This is as it should be. Love of God, of necessity, leads to love of neighbor. They are not two commands, but one.

As we learn to love people--truly love them--we will desire for them far more than it is within our power to give them, and that will drive us all the more deeply into prayer for them. The converse is also true: the more we pray for people the more we will come to love them. Here, then, is a penetrating test of our devotion: if we do not pray for people--truly pray for them--how can we say that we love them?"

Sometimes when I offer to pray for someone, I sense the slightest bit of disappointment.

"What," they seem to ask, "have you given up on me? Grown tired of my needs? Dismissing me?"

No, no. When I pray for you, it's because I "desire for you far more than it is within my power to give you." When I pray for you, I'm acknowledging that my love for you is imperfect and incomplete and will never be enough. When I pray for you, I'm entreating God to perfect God's love in me so that I can pass it on to you. When I pray for you, I am offering the most, the best that I have to give.

One thing you can be certain of is this: Even when I disappoint you, anger you, frustrate or fail you, your pastor is praying for you.

Alleluia and Amen,

Rev. Karen Thompson